


Nude Day on Curellia IV

by Kotik



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Competition-Set Fic, F/M, Parody, Romance, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 12:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4060000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kotik/pseuds/Kotik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Subcommander T'Pol gets her knickers in a twist when Trip and Malcolm have a beer idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nude Day on Curellia IV

“Massive Explosion in Three, Two, One…”

The ship’s chief engineer had barely finished the sentence, when the chirp of the intercom notified him of the fact that someone requested entry to his quarters, and quite urgently too, by the sound of it.

Malcolm Reed, the ship’s normally introverted and currently mildly inebriated tactical officer flashed his only real friend among the crew a knowing smile and put his empty bottle back into the crate.

“I believe this is my cue to take my leave,” he quipped in his clipped British accent, amused by the fact that their prediction had turned out to be quite accurate.

He pushed the door button to leave Trip to dealing with his visitor and, apparently expecting the room’s occupant to open the door for her, she started to speak as soon as it was open.

“Commander Tucker, there is an urgent…”

Her impending monologue, quite laden with emotion for a Vulcan, he had to admit, stopped as soon as Subcommander T’Pol noticed that she was not unloading on the human she had expected to be greeted by. The Brit nodded in her direction and ambled off into the direction of his quarters, trying to be not too shaky on his feet after consuming slightly more beer than even Captain Archer’s relaxed orders regarding alcoholic beverages allowed for.

-=/\=-

There were no points for guessing why the ship’s resident Vulcan was standing in his door-frame and Trip waved her in, unashamedly continuing to enjoy his beer. He had stopped counting, but it was probably the sixth or seventh pint. There was nothing wrong with that. After all he wasn’t such a light-weight as Malcolm.

It had been a classic ‘Hold my beer, while I invent a sport’ idea to post what they did in the ship-wide intranet forum, and they hadn’t been prepared for how enthusiastically the idea had been received by most of the crew, and the captain of all people as well. What they _were_ prepared for, however, was the foreseeable visit from the ship’s science officer for the sole purpose of voicing her indignation over yet another infantile and emotional idea of her human crew mates. It was amazing how easily one could unsettle the same Vulcan officer, who had unflinchingly bribed and smack-talked her way through the Klingon hierarchy to free the Captain from the penal colony on Rura Penthe just a week ago. All it had taken was a forum post, born from a beer idea that had gone viral among the ship’s crew.

“Come on in, Subcommander,” he said with an expectant grin and the Vulcan duly stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind herself. She fixed him with that questioning glance of hers, her stance rigid, both hands clasped behind the small of her back.

“You are consuming alcohol, Commander,” she stated the obvious and Trip couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Thank god for your reminding me of it,” he answered with a teasing, ironic ring to his voice. “I had almost convinced myself I was accidentally inventing the warp seven engine.”

“It appears you _were_ inventing something, Commander. This inane suggestion of celebrating an imaginary ‘National Nude Day’ can only be the result of your progressing inebriation.”

For her standards, T’Pol’s words were delivered quite hotly, he noticed.

“Even the Cap’n seems to think it is a good idea,” he replied neutrally. “As do at least thirty other people, including almost all the bridge crew and Doctor Phlox.”

He pointed at the growing number of people on the still active forum display who had selected ‘Hell, yeah’ in the attached poll.

“You cannot simply invent a hypothetical holiday for the purpose of forcing crew members to undress,” the Vulcan insisted.

Now that was an implication that he didn’t quite like. In her roundabout way T’Pol had accused him of being a peeping tom, who had invented the Nude Day to gawk at female crew members. He indicated her to take a seat and to his surprise the Vulcan did so.

“First of all, Subcommander, the National Nude Day isn’t an invention of mine. It was a fad in the early 21st century when many cultures back on Earth were still rather prudish in connection to ditching the frock. And if anything, I suggested celebrating it because _I_ want to go naked for a day without people questioning my sanity.”

“You wish to undress in public?” she asked and it wasn’t hard to see that _she_ was questioning his sanity at this very moment.

“T’Pol, why do you think half the crew said ‘great idea’ within twenty minutes?” he asked, pointing his thumb at the screen again. “Going naked for a while can be quite a liberating experience. And liberating is a great thing when you’ve spent two years cooped up in the close confines of a star ship. And besides, humans didn’t invent clothing to hide their bodies. We started wearing fur and leather so we could survive in regions with a climate that was too cold to go without.”

“You have not considered the consequences of your suggestion,” the science officer reminded him. “Being exposed to the sight of each other’s unclothed physique may encourage crew members to engage in sexual relations. According to studies undertaken by the Vulcan science directorate, the sight of an unclothed female body is causing strong arousal in human males.”

“As does the sight of a well-muscled man in a female, Subcommander. And where’s the problem? All people aboard are over eighteen years old and as long as there is no coercion involved we are dealing with potential cases of two or more consenting adults engaging in sexual activities. The proposal says quite explicitly that normal Starship regulations apply again the next day and that includes the ban on certain types of fraternization.”

He felt quite a bit of pride for his ability to deliver his argument in a quiet and calm manner, considering that he had already several beers in his system and that the Vulcan was the one who knew where all his buttons were and how to push them. It was a rare occurrence to last that long in an argument without getting irritated with her.

“The Captain will most likely revise his initially supportive opinion if he realizes those potential consequences of your proposal,” she replied and he noticed that she still eyed his beer bottle with suspicion or was it curiosity?

He’d seen her mildly buzzed twice in the last few months. The first time after telling that tall tale of her grandmother over several glasses of wine and then after celebrating the cease fire John brokered between her people and the Andorians at Paan Mokar. Perhaps the ship’s resident Vulcan had developed a liking for being a bit tipsy?

“Fell free to help yourself,” he said, pointing the neck of his nearly empty bottle at the crate which still contained half a dozen untouched bottles of finest brew. “As for the Captain. I think that he’s well aware of these potential consequences and that’s exactly why he supports it.”

He smiled when she actually did rise to fetch one of the bottles. T’Pol took out a cloth from her pocket and wiped the rim of the bottle after making sure to open it with as little sound as possible. She tasted the drink, but being a Vulcan she did of course show no signs of whether she liked it or not.

“You are claiming that the Captain supports your idea specifically to allow crew members to engage in sexual relations?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “That logic is unusual even by your standards, commander.”

He ignored her mild insult and exchanged his empty bottle for a new one instead. “Subcommander, I’m sure you are familiar with the mission statistics and that means you know that twenty-five crew members, including the two of us, have been on away missions so far. That means we have sixty people aboard, who have not been off this ship since we left space dock two years ago. That’s sixty people who haven’t breathed fresh air for two years and unless they’ve been breaking the rules, they haven’t had any sexual contact with anyone but their own hands.”

“Unlike you, commander,” she challenged him and Trip thought he heard the same undercurrent of jealousy that she’d displayed on that crashed ship where they had encountered Liana and her father.

“Unlike me, Subcommander,” he answered with a lopsided grin. “Although I repeat my insistence that it was Kaitaama, who attacked me and I was merely unwilling to defend myself.”

“Of course, commander.”

“Anyway,” he continued, ignoring her snippy reply. “The Captain could of course relax the no-frats, but then this crew would implode. People would start relationships and break up again with all the emotional baggage that comes with it. Using our idea, the Captain can allow everything for a day, people let off steam and things go back to normal the next day. As an added bonus, since it is technically a very large away mission, Phlox gets to check everyone to make sure that no STD’s get spread and that contraceptives are used.”

To his surprise T’Pol had already emptied her bottle and following his example she simply exchanged it for a new one. He grinned for a moment when she wasn’t looking.

“May I inquire how you came into possession of such a large amount of alcoholic beverages?” the Vulcan asked and Trip noticed with amusement that she sat back on his bunk slightly more comfortably than her usual ‘rigid back’ style.

“Snuffing out my trade secrets, Subcommander?” he challenged her and tried to mimic her raised eyebrow. “If you need to know; two of my engineers are running a brewery with the authorization of Captain Archer.”

“Engineering is hardly a suitable environment to produce beverages,” she replied and put down the bottle, apparently thinking that the stuff was cooked up by greasy engineers behind the warp reactor.

“It is produced in a cleanroom and the production process is strictly supervised by Dr. Phlox in terms of hygienic conditions and substance quality. You have nothing to fear, Subcommander.”

“Since when does the ship have a cleanroom?”

“Remember section forty-seven on C-deck?” he asked.

“According to the ship’s designs it should house a large water tank,” the science officer quoted from memory. “But according to later engineering reports you disallowed the construction.”

“I did. Because someone forgot to think about what happens when two-hundred fifty-six tons of water float out of a swimming pool if the grav-plating conks outs. So now it houses a clean room and a brewery installation instead.”

She pondered his explanation and apparently she was now confident enough again to continue emptying her second beer.

“There is one thing I don’t understand,” he mused and looked at her. “Why did you get so upset by our idea of a Nude Day? The proposal said quite clearly that participation was strictly voluntary; so if you are afraid of going naked, you can just stay aboard and command the skeleton crew we’ve got to leave on the ship anyway.”

“Vulcans do not experience fear,” she insisted, evading a straight answer.

“Then I must say Vulcans have a problem,” he lobbed the challenge back at her. “Fear is what warns us of potential danger and I know for a fact that Vulcans do experience fear, because _you_ are afraid right now. The thought of being seen without clothes is creeping you out and frankly I can’t really understand it.”

“You cannot understand why I would be… uncomfortable with the thought of undressing?” she asked, not even contesting his theory, which was her usual way of admitting something without really admitting it.

“No, I can’t. I mean we’ve been in decon together what… ten times? A dozen? And you weren’t wearing anything but your underwear. And trust me that bit of fabric leaves very few blanks to fill in by imagination.”

“You are creating mental images of me without clothes?” she asked back and she almost gasped, in fact he saw her catching a gasp at the last moment. Of course now was the time to weigh his response very carefully.

“Yes I do, T’Pol,” he replied dropping the rank. “And to be honest, every straight male and probably some females too have done that a few dozen times by now. I guess Vulcans don’t care about these things, but you are, by a long margin, the most attractive woman aboard.”

He could see a slight greenish blush creep up her cheeks, probably helped by the beer as well, as she was halfway into her third bottle already.

“There is a ranking?” she asked.

The chief engineer shrugged. “Malcolm ran a poll in the forums a couple months back. I could look up the numbers, but I think you got about eighty percent of the votes, beating Hoshi and Liz Cutler to the win. And I might add that you got the majority of female votes as well.”

She stared at him, still blushing. For several moments she wasn’t unable to answer, but then she suddenly cast her eyes down.

“Everybody would be staring at me,” she said.

That was interesting in several aspects. First of all this was a pretty clear admission that she _was_ afraid. And secondly T’Pol was apparently considering participating in the event. That was quite a change from the upset Vulcan that had stormed in here about an hour ago.

“No they won’t,” he said, softening his voice. “I’m not going to lie. Many people expect that you won’t join in anyway, but they will also hope you do, and they _will_ look at you because they’re curious, but nobody will stare, for three reasons. First, it’s considered rude. Second, whoever would think of staring at someone else, knows that he or she could be stared at as well. You aren’t gonna do something that you don’t want to happen to yourself, do ya? And third, and that’s especially true for the men, if you’re naked there’s a very obvious indication when you have, well, ‘those’ kinda thoughts about someone. Nobody is going to risk that sort of embarrassment.”

“But that is easy for you to say,” she insisted. “You are not in my position. There are no crew members waiting to inspect your unclothed physique.”

“Are you kidding me T’Pol?” he said with a chuckle and pointed at the screen. “I can name at least three female crew members from engineering, who have made it very clear, that if it wasn’t for the no-frats, they’d invite me into their bed. And all three of them have already signed up for the gig. They will be chomping at the bit to see the chief engineer ditch the frock. But once they’ve given me the once-over, that will be that. They won’t be ogling me all day for the reasons I’ve explained.”

He should have seen it coming. He had cornered T’Pol into admitting a weakness and her usual reaction to that was to deflect interest from herself to him and she did just that.

“Since you explained that engaging in sexual relations is an acceptable consequence of this proposal, do I take that to mean that you prepare to indulge any if not all of those females?”

It was a good thing that he hadn’t just taken a swig from his bottle, else the drink would have left his body quite explosively through his nostrils.

“Jeez, T’Pol,” he said, feeling a massive blush burn up his cheeks. “Human Interaction 101: ‘Do you prepare to have sex with that woman’ is not considered an acceptable question in a conversation unless both participants are male and hopelessly drunk.”

“I apologize Commander.”

“It’s okay,” he replied with a grin, having regained some of his wits, but still feeling the blush cling to his features. “If you need to know; No, neither of them will get lucky on June 14th.”

“Wouldn’t that beat the purpose of the event?” she challenged him over his earlier explanation.

He chuckled. “T’Pol, the first and foremost purpose of the event is spending a day engaging in recreational activities without wearing clothes, thus evoking a sense of freedom we’re not normally afforded. If that inspires some people to engage in intimacies, it’s an acceptable bonus, but not the main purpose. As for my self-imposed celibacy, it’s entirely personal, but since you obviously want to know; I’m concerned that having sex with anyone could be a bother to someone I don’t want to inconvenience any further than I already did by not resisting Kaitaama’s advances, okay?”

The words had just flowed out of his mouth, most likely with the help of quite a healthy dose of beer by now. He knew he’d started to dig a hole and T’Pol was just the person to hand him a bigger shovel.

“You are attracted to a female crew member,” she stated the obvious.

“Apparently,” he replied in kind.

“Does she know of your… interest?”

For a species that considered telling one’s age an act of intimacy, she sure was inquisitive and since he had been digging away at his little hole for quite a while now, his beer-addled brain told him that he could just as well dig a little more.

“No idea. Just ask _her_. She’s having a drink with the chief engineer as far as I know.”

Thanking him for his hospitality and citing a need for meditation, the ship’s science officer practically fled his quarters. He wondered if Mattes and Kriegel would believe his claims that the resident Vulcan of all people had helped him and the tactical officer empty an entire crate of beer in a single day.

-=/\=-

“Trip is not going to join us, is he?” the Captain asked after the Steward had delivered the meals for dinner. The third serving, meant for the also invited chief engineer was still sitting on the cart.

“It is fairly unlikely,” the Subcommander admitted and waited for the Captains indication to start the meal.

He gave the indication and they both started eating.

“What happened, T’Pol?” Jon asked.

“The Commander and I had a somewhat awkward discussion two days ago, over his… proposal.”

Jon was slightly surprised. He had of course expected that T’Pol wouldn’t be enthusiastic about Trip’s idea, but she sounded almost embarrassed or abashed, whatever emotion Vulcans were capable of.

“T’Pol, I can imagine you’re not really enamored to the idea. You don’t have to be. Just stay behind and take command of the skeleton crew. Trip didn’t try to talk you into anything, did he?”

“You should know our chief engineer better than that,” she replied, still avoiding eye-contact, but the protectiveness was evident in her voice. She didn’t care much for the implicit allegation.

He had of course noticed that Trip was the one crew member the science officer was most comfortably interacting with, something that still invoked an occasional pang of jealousy, being that he once was tempted to give in to his own attraction to the Vulcan.  But over the last two days their interaction had been somewhat strained and uncomfortable, quite obviously so for someone who knew both of them well. The looks Jon had exchanged with the ship’s coms officer were testament to the fact that he wasn’t the only one to make that observation.

“Then what happened between the two of you, T’Pol? It was hard to miss that you and Trip are uncomfortable and I’d go as far as saying Hoshi has picked up on it, too.”

She finally looked him into the eyes.

“Is the commander’s theory correct that you consider casual sexual relations between participants of the event acceptable?”

Jon sighed. “T’Pol, you once suggested sending the crew to Risa to ‘ease our tensions’. Yes, if things happen they’ll have my blessing for that one day. But I can’t really imagine that this has caused any problems between you and Trip, because even if you think I don’t know him, the one thing I know for sure is that he didn’t propose anything in _that_ regard to you.”

“No, the commander did of course not make any unseemly advances, not even in jest,” the Vulcan confirmed. “However, he admitted that he knows several female crew members who would most likely hope to get a chance at engaging in sexual relations with him.”

He continued eating his steak, but T’Pol became more and more confusing. Was she jealous because Trip could have his way with Anna Hess? It would take quite a lot of ignorance not to notice that the Lieutenant was hopelessly smitten with her superior officer. Thankfully she’d been entirely professional about it up to now.

“T’Pol, Trip is the runaway favorite among the female crew. It’s only normal that some of the women fantasize about him.”

“I know that captain. However, the commander has already declared that none of the potentially interested females will have their wish fulfilled.”

The captain put his cutlery down and looked at the Vulcan.

“T’Pol, now you’ve got me completely confused. You’ve always criticized Trip for being too appreciative of female charms. Now that he says he won’t indulge any women who might be interested it causes problems between the two of you? You need to help me out here, because I don’t understand anything at the moment.”

She put down her cutlery as well and if he didn’t know better Jon would have guessed that T’Pol looked almost desperate.

“Captain, the problem lies with the reason he cited for that decision. Commander Tucker admitted that he is attracted to me.”

Jon laughed out loud, now that he understood why T’Pol got her knickers in a twist.

“T’Pol, even Porthos knows that Trip is attracted to you.”

“Then why is he suddenly no longer able to interact with me in a normal manner?” the Vulcan asked and the captain could see that she didn’t care much for his amusement about what was obviously a very serious matter for her.

“That’s because you didn’t give him an answer, T’Pol,” Jon explained, getting serious despite the weird mix of amusement and slight jealousy in his mind. “I would bet my captain’s pips on the fact that you have not told him whether or not you feel the same about him.”

“My opinion on the matter is inconsequential,” she said and the captain knew the answer to Trip’s implicit question when he heard the badly concealed dejection in her voice. “The ban on fraternization would preclude any relationship even if I were to reciprocate the Commanders affection.”

“It takes something to unsettle you,” the captain noted and softened his voice deliberately. “T’Pol, it’s pretty obvious that the two of you are attracted to each other. Don’t you think Trip deserves knowing that?”

“What difference would it make?” she asked. “He would just feel more inconvenienced or perhaps even inclined to break standing regulations.”

“Are you familiar with the term ‘trial balloon’?” Jon asked.

Her confused look told him she didn’t quite understand the sudden change of topic. But always the unflappable Vulcan she provided an answer.

“It refers to leaking information for the purpose of evaluating the potential public reaction to an upcoming decision.”

“Exactly,” the captain said with a nod. “I don’t have any illusion that the no-frat rules aren’t broken on this ship on a daily basis. You can’t stuff eighty-six humans, eighty-three of which are below the age of thirty, into a ship and expect them to live like nuns and monks for years. Someone at Starfleet Command has had a serious case of not thinking this trough.

“What I have in mind is, provided that Trip’s ‘Nude Day’ goes without a hitch, that the no-frat rules will be suspended on an experimental basis. Trip thinks it won’t work, but I think it will. Crew members will be allowed to pursue personal relationships as long as they are reported to me and potentially necessary adjustments to the chain of command are implemented. For instance, if you and Trip were to hitch up, I would simply make Malcolm third in command and relegate Trip to forth with no change in rank. That way you are no longer Trip’s direct superior. If it influences performance, we will have to re-instantiate the ban of course.”

He was taken aback by the stare he got in return. T’Pol’s glance was practically burning through the back of his head. He was still wondering what all that was about when she stood up.

“Captain, I wish to report a romantic relationship between the science officer and the chief engineer.”

She did an about-face and stormed out of the captain’s mess. Jon just sat back and laughed hysterically.

-=/\=-

There is ‘surprising’, ‘utterly surprising’ and ‘frigging unreal’. What was unfolding before his eyes most certainly qualified for the latter category. He had been in his quarters, minding his own business, as in taking a shower, when the ship’s science officer had stormed in – using her override code to open the door – and went straight for his beer supply. She was currently sitting across the room, looking at him.

“You are unclothed, Commander,” she stated the obvious after downing half a bottle in one go.

“I happen to be occasionally, Subcommander.”

He wanted his reply to sound cool, but in reality it was little more than a helpless stutter. Trip was still completely lost about what was happening. T’Pol had forced her way into his quarters and was currently quite unashamedly ogling his naked frame. He ran his fingers through his hair, which was still damp from the shower he’d just taken, literally moments before the Vulcan had broken in.

“If you would adjust the room temperature and lock the door, I might be inclined to adjust to the prevailing dress-code,” she replied dryly and started lowering the zip on her uniform.

Still bewildered, his mind in a haze, he traipsed over to the door panel, pressed the lock button and cranked up the temperature on the environmental controls.

“Uh, unless we’ve just blasted through a cloud of psychotropic compound, would you mind explaining what… SON-OF-A-BITCH!”

He had many things in mind he wanted to say, yet he instantly lost the ability when he turned around and saw T’Pol standing next to his desk, completely and utterly naked. God couldn’t have created something that spectacular, even on a good day. He wiped his chin when he noticed he’d started dribbling like the village idiot.

“God almighty, T’Pol! Forget what I said about nobody staring. If nobody else does, _I will_.”

“I take it you approve of my appearance?” she asked, her face heavily flushed. That particular shade of green on a human face would have him running to bring her a bucket, but he reminded himself that Vulcan blood was green.

“I’m afraid I’m in a bad situation to deny that,” he stuttered when he noticed his throbbing erection. He felt his own face burn up in a massive blush, ashamed of his obvious reaction.

He shook his head and sat down on his bunk, hiding his obvious manifestation of male arousal by trapping the treacherous organ between his thighs.

“T’Pol, what the hell…, not that I don’t appreciate the view…,” he stammered.

“So much was obvious,” she noted dryly and took a seat on his chair, calmly sipping her drink.

He shook his head again and bumped his fist into his temple in an attempt to recover his wits.

“Okay, darlin’, what the hell is going on? We couldn’t exchange more than two civilized sentences just a few hours ago. Suddenly you come rolling into my quarters like a MACO platoon and strip naked. Forgive me for being completely lost.”

“Captain Archer informed me that the awkwardness between us was the result of my failure to make you aware of whether or not I reciprocate your affection for me. Ensign Sato has insisted on several occasions that human males are incapable of deciphering subtle signals, so I strived to make my answer somewhat more… obvious.”

He buried his face in his palms and started laughing. When he regained a modicum of composure, he looked up at T’Pol, still shaking his head in disbelief.

“I take it then that you aren’t trying to tell me ‘no’,” he quipped realization still sinking in what it all meant.

“Indeed,” she replied and sat down on his knees. She slung her arms around him and for several minutes they just remained in each other’s embrace, resting their foreheads against each other.

“I had a few optimistic dreams that you’d tell me one day that you like me,” he said with a soft chuckle. “But not even in my wildest dream would I have expected us to be stark naked at the time.”

She sat back and looked at him. “My affection for you runs a fair deal deeper than just ‘liking you’, Commander. If I have misread your intentions…”

Her impending rant was silenced when he covered her mouth with his own. Knowing that Vulcans had probably no understanding of kissing, he took a gentle lead and soon he noticed that she was all too willing to follow his guidance. What had started as a gentle attempt at silencing her needless worries, ended up as a fairly long sensual experience they both cherished a lot, at least if their respective bodily reactions where anything to go by.

“I guess, you’d prefer that I don’t attend my own event now?” he quipped when they both separated for a much needed breath.

“On the contrary,” T’Pol answered, her eyes still closed as she relished the emotions he’d invoked. “I wish to attend together with you on the condition that you… hold my hand. I will be somewhat… scared.”

“Wouldn’t it be better not to go down?” he asked. “I’d thought holding hands would be a bit too public as a show of affection, at least for a Vulcan.”

“Since intimate contact is apparently quite acceptable on the occasion, it would not matter. And seeing me in your company will deter any other males from making advances. Additionally it would announce our relationship without the need of an official statement.”

He smiled. T’Pol was still as practical as ever.

“You’ve got yourself a date for June 14th, darlin’.”


End file.
